


Drabbles on the Path

by Marmottine



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Female Witcher, Gen, Reward, Violence, Witcher Contracts, witcher work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-22 23:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17672411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marmottine/pseuds/Marmottine
Summary: A series of short instants on the witcheress Moira’s adventurous life on the Path. Between contracts and meetings among other things, a witcher life is rarely boring.





	Drabbles on the Path

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Arkhaniel for the review!

In a quick glance at the standing mirror, object rare enough to attest its owner health, Moira adjusted her yellow linen blouse on top of her black leather pants. It was not at every contract that her employer invited her to dinner, so even if her outfit was simple she had made a minimum effort.

She entered the dining room and quickly scanned it: fireplace on the left but not lit as the weather was warm enough at this time of year. A unique large window on her right. A painting of a couple on the wall in front of her, harbouring fake smiles - especially for the woman. An older version of the same man facing her was seated at the long wooden table, covered with a fine cotton tablecloth. Finally, a young man with the same chestnut eyes at his right.

“Ah, Moira, I’m glad you finally came. Please make yourself comfortable and take a seat.” the older man greeted her cheerfully, before tapping on the young lad shoulder. This one, looking shyly at Moira, almost jump on his chair and stood up quickly.

“That hunting opened my appetite. And those are delicious dishes you have there.”

Indeed, various meat, cheese and even garlic butter snails were brought in the meantime by a servitor, while the young man poured her a glass of red wine. She noticed his trembling hands as he was leaning on the table.

“Moira, this is my son Wally. Excuse his nervosity, he’s young and still not comfortable with the ladies gent. Argh come on son, don’t make a fool of yourself” he added annoyed. The lad had just spilt some of the drink as he met for one second the witcher’s cat glance at him.

As he grumbled a vague sorry, Moira caught the bottle and ended pouring her own glass to help the embarrassed lad. This one didn’t lose time to step back and sit to his father’s left, at the other side of the table.

 

Since everybody had now something to drink and to eat, the master sent the servitors back and after the first courtesies, he finally approached the subject that had led the witcheress at this place.

“I am impressed by your work, Moira. Efficient and without any ruffle. I have nothing to complain about.”

“Thank you Linnand. I hope I’ll have nothing to complain about my reward too.”

“Ah, of course, an honest pay for honest work, that’s right?” nodded the noble man as he rang a bell and a servitor appeared with a large leather pouch then disappeared.

“I see that we understand each other. Clear instructions, clear payment. I would not be against working with you one more time.” said Moira joyfully as she checked briefly the bag content. She didn’t need to count each coin to see that she has been well paid.

“Ah, why not? But enough talking about work for today and let’s start to drink. I unbottled my best wine for you, you know? ” he said as he raised his full glass and added, “To a fruitful work cooperation!”.

Moira raised hers to cheer the two men. As she approached it to her lips she noticed Wally’s eyes moving from her glass to her face.

_What a nervous boy,_ she thought. Unless...? After a moment of hesitation, she ended her movement and half emptied the glass.

 

Linnand, who hadn't let his eyes off Moira a single time during the toast, put his own glass on the table. Full, as his lips haven’t even touched the ruby liquid.

The reserved smile of the man widened in a large satisfied grin as she kept looking at her glass for seconds without a word, and even more when she grabbed her throat as her breath became louder and tedious.

“A fruitful operation, really. But did I mention it was only for me?”

The witcheress abruptly stood up and stretched her arms toward them in a useless attempt of help. The man’s son was surprised by this movement and jumped on his chair, but his father grabbed his shoulder with a strong grip.

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing she can do. Look, it’s almost over”.

It was indeed, the woman’s strength quickly vanishing, she slowly sat back and leaned on the table, her movements becoming slower and more erratic. After a few minutes, she completely stopped moving, her face down on the table, arms hanging each side almost to the ground.

Linnand finally stood up and rounded the table to approach his victim, or more precisely the coin pouch he shook loudly in front of the young lad.

“Listen to this beautiful sound, son. That’s the sound of someone who stays one step ahead. Two monsters eliminated on the same day, without costing us a single coin. Well, except for the cyanide of course.”

 

“Indeed, two monsters will be dead today.” he heard a muffled voice next to him.

Horrified and surprised, he didn't have time to even understand how the dead woman could jump, neither how she took out a dagger from a right boot and stuck it deeply in his belly, just under the last ribs.

The pain acted as an electroshock and he promptly stepped back, ready to run from the dining room. But in the precipitation and fear, he did the bad choice to turn back to his aggressor, who grabbed his neck in her strong grip and struck him 2 then 3 times with her dagger.

In the meantime, Wally has witnessed all of this. But it happened too fast for him to react to help his father in addition to his nervousness that turned into panic. After all, he had just witnessed a woman dying and coming back from the dead, and she actually really look like an undead now with her deep dark rings around eyes, darkened veins contrasting on her white skin.  Back against the wall, he would probably have fled if he could but Moira was between him and the only door. And useless to say that approaching the angry witcher was the last thing he wanted.

After the poisoner took his last breath on the cold floor, Moira turned back to the only one still alive in this room. As she finally took three large and nervous steps toward him, still frowning, Wally squeaked as he knew his last time was coming. In front of the furious eyes, and menacing silence of the woman that frightened him more than any insults, he pleaded for mercy.

“Why?” Moira finally said curtly, standing immobile before the young man in the corner, back pressed against the wall as he tried to go through it.

“I had no choice, I swear! My father, it was him, please, mercy!”

“I saw no one forcing you to grab this poisonous wine flask and pour me a glass.”

“I know I know, I am so sorry! But what could I have done? He is...was my father, he was my mentor, I just followed his orders! And he said that if I was unable to do this he would rather disinherit me than keep a weak one for controlling his business. “

He couldn’t say if his arguments were really efficient but there was not much more he could do. The witcheress was still holding firmly her dagger a dozen centimetres from his throat.

“So what, that was a test, is that what you are saying?”

“It was! Please my lady spare my life, I swear I’ll never do something like this again.”

The young man continued his tirade of apologizes without a second of break, biding time as he noticed she hasn’t acted yet. When Moira finally adjusted her grip on the weapon the lad felt his stomach fell and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see the weapon thrust in his flesh.

In this situation, he could not see where the blast came from, and he lost his breath when his right cheek got slapped with a surprising strength from a woman of this height.

“Don’t listen blindly to what all your seniors ask you to do. They’re not always on the right path, make your own.” Moira lectured him while she sheathed the dagger in her boot.

He stroke instinctively his cheek, hot and red from the slap, not understanding at first that the witcher let him go. This one didn’t lose any more time in this place, grabbed the leather pouch and vanished.

The young man was found later, kneeled near his father but not holding his hand. In his highly confused state, shared between the grief of his loss but also a form of relief for which he felt ashamed, he was unable to answer the pressing questions of the guards.

 

It was too late anyway. When he finally came back to his senses, the murderer was already far away. Riding her horse at a good pace, Moira searched in her mount satchels and finally caught a full flask. She opened it and drink its content in a few swallows, sighed with relief when the White Honey started to cure her intoxicated body. Not that she was in danger of death, but the poison’s effect wasn’t particularly pleasant and she was glad to get rid of it.

And to get rid of this town, of this unfortunate story. She knew it was not the first time people tried to scam her on a contract, and it was certainly not the last time.

“Honest pay for honest work my ass.” She was grinding her teeth as she urged her horse into gallop with a pressure of her tights.

**Author's Note:**

> You enjoyed it? Don't leave without a comment, these are highly appreciated. ;)


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